


they fell in love in their seventh year

by ReedBalloon



Category: Carmilla - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 15:45:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11211177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReedBalloon/pseuds/ReedBalloon
Summary: Carmilla and Laura through seven years of Hogwarts.





	they fell in love in their seventh year

They were sorted into different houses in their first year.

Laura watched from the Hufflepuff table as the hat yelled Slytherin, and Carmilla wore no expression other than resignation.

They’d met on the train, Carmilla, albeit reluctantly, granting Laura access to the compartment she had to herself as the rest were full. She’d listened, half-heartedly but still listened, as Laura had rambled through her nerves. She told her about her family, all muggles, about her father, worried but excited. How she was told her mother would have been proud, although she wasn’t sure just yet but she hoped so in the future.

In return Carmilla told her about her own family, all purebloods, about her mother, not worried or excited. That her sister had graduated that last year and her brother would be starting in two. That her whole family had been in Slytherin and she expected she would as well.

“Aren’t they evil?” Laura had asked foolishly, at a moment of unthinking ease with someone who didn’t seem to mind she talked too much and too fast. She was only repeating what she’d read, what people had said, and regretted it immediately when Carmilla’s face hardened and her fists clenched.

She lost Carmilla then, before she really had chance to get her, and they spent the rest of the journey with Carmilla looking fixedly out the window and ignoring Laura’s attempt to make amends.

She told her a final, quiet, sorry as the train arrived and they got off. Carmilla walked away without saying anything in return.

//

They met again in their second year.

Carmilla had been vaguely aware of Laura throughout the time she’d been at Hogwarts. Not sharing classes had resulted in not sharing words, and Carmilla finally managed to get over her initial annoyance at herself for letting Laura’s thoughtlessness bother her.

She had no qualms with being in Slytherin. She knew they weren’t all evil, some people thought that but mostly people had come to accept it wasn’t true. Their nature led to more of her house becoming bad, but it was an exception and not a rule.

Her sister had been in Slytherin, and certainly wasn’t evil, nor her brother and he probably would be in Slytherin too. Her mother was part of that exception, Carmilla being of the opinion that was absolutely evil, but was confident that where it ended with her family.

So maybe she shouldn’t have punished Laura so harshly for her words, she had already been told at length that Laura learnt all she could about the wizarding world in a limited period of time through reading and not experience, but she had already been more nervous than she cared to admit and it hadn’t helped.

Carmilla had looked for her a few times once they started, but never made any moves.

Laura Hollis didn’t make friends well. While Carmilla had managed to obtain herself one permanent friend, Elizabeth “call me Betty or I’ll hex you” Spielsdorf, people seemed put off by Laura’s incessant talking and habit of being over excited.

Carmilla had found it endearing but apparently others did not, and soon she spied Laura alone most of the time, looking worried and morose.

Still Carmilla didn’t approach her, and the next time they properly spoke was just after Christmas, when she had rushed into an empty classroom to hide from her Potions partner, lest they actually make her do work, and found Laura sitting against the wall with her legs pulled up.

She jumped up when Carmilla burst through, and brandished her wand while taking frantic steps back. Her eyes were wide and panicked, and Carmilla recognised the look of someone worried they were going to be hurt.

“Hey.” Carmilla held up her hands placating, “What are you doing in here?”

“What are you doing in here?” Laura shot back defensively.

“Hiding from homework.” She surveyed Laura, who hadn’t lowered her wand. “What are you hiding from?”

“Nothing.” Laura spoke too quickly and with her eyes darting to the door.

“Laura.” Carmilla would have said more but there was the sound of footsteps and voices from outside and Laura took more steps back and squeaked. Carmilla waited until the footsteps retreated before speaking. “Who were they?”

Laura shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You’re a bad liar.”

“I don’t need your help.”

Carmilla hadn’t offered it, but her suspicions about Laura being bullied were starting to be confirmed. Carmilla herself had been protected instantly from any teasing by kids from sixth and seventh years, and she suspected this had a lot to do with Mattie spending some time threatening people into doing this.

“Who were they?” she asked again. “Laura, if you’re being hurt someone can help.”

“I’m not.”

“Bullied.”

“No.”

“Really bad at lying, cupcake.”

Laura’s head shot up at the nickname she hadn’t been called since the train. “They wait for me after class sometimes,” Laura said quietly. “I don’t know why.”

Because she was a little different and a little weird and was obviously scared of them, Carmilla thought. Instead she asked for names. Laura rattled off five, and Carmilla ensured she would remember them.

“Where’s your next class?” Carmilla asked. Laura had lowered her wand and no longer look ready to bolt.

“Greenhouses. Herbology.”

“I have a free period. I can walk you if you like?”

Laura looked ready to refuse, but another set of footsteps made her jump and she nodded.

That night Carmilla sent a letter to Mattie containing five names and the wish that she would keep them from bullying a second year Hufflepuff.

After a few weeks Laura stopped looking around the Great Hall worriedly at dinner time and started to smile again.

//

They shared a class in their third year.

There had been rumours the Hufflepuffs would be sharing their potions lesson with the Slytherins, and they had been confirmed by mix of green and yellow robes when Laura arrived.

She saw Carmilla seated next to a blonde girl, looking bored but listening to whatever she was saying, and took a seat next to Perry, who, after she had stopped being bullied and regained a little confidence, she had managed to make friends with. It started with an innocent request of help with notes, and had turned into Laura having Perry, and by consequence Lafontaine, always sit next to her at the table.

The professor entered, saw that yellow lines one side while green the other, and sighed and told them to mix.

Carmilla ended up next to Laura, her friend next to Perry, and Laura was unsure if they were supposed to get along or not.

It wasn’t helped by Carmilla, who wasn’t outright rude or mean whenever they had to work together, but their interactions didn’t go beyond that.

It turned out Lafontaine had been Carmilla’s last potions partner.

“Karnsteins not bad,” Lafontaine had said, when Laura had told them who she had been paired with, “You gotta nail her down to do the homework straight away, otherwise she’ll give you the slip, but other than that she’s fine.”

Lafontaine had her for other classes, and admitted that they would go so far as to call them vague acquaintances bordering on friends.

It had continued on the steady but uneventful path for two months until Carmilla had casually asked her if she was going home for the Christmas break and Laura had dropped the bag of beetles she had been holding.

The professor tutted and she smiled sheepishly as she cleaned them up, then looked at Carmilla who had her eyebrows raised and was smirking.

“Smooth.” She sniggered, but it wasn’t unkind.

“I wasn’t expecting you to talk.”

Carmilla shrugged. “Was getting bored watching you cut things up wrong.”

Again, it wasn’t unkind, and Laura smiled. “You can do better?”

“No. Just commenting.”

Laura went back to her work. “I’m going home for Christmas,” she said, “You?”

“Staying here.”

“Why?”

Carmilla shrugged. “We’re not big on Christmas in my family.”

“You can come to mine,” Laura said impulsively, then blushed at how ridiculous that sounded.

Carmilla smiled. “Thanks, but it’s the only time I get any peace in this castle.”

“You never go home?”

“Not liking Christmas hasn’t just sprung up recently.”

“You’re brother started this year, didn’t he?” Laura remember the dark haired boy, noticeable related to Carmilla even before they called his name. He had the same look she did when the hat shouted, and walked briskly over to the Slytherin table to take a seat. He’d caught his sister’s eye, and Laura had saw the flicker of a smile from both of them. “How’s he getting on?”

“Good, I think. Seems happy.”

“That’s good.”

At the end of the class Carmilla wished her a good Christmas. When they returned from the break the class had been switched around, each gaining new partners. Laura had Carmilla friend, Betty she’d introduced herself as, and found her chattier than Carmilla.

They didn’t talk again after that, but whenever Laura caught her eye she would smile, and occasionally received a smile back.

//

They became friends in their fourth year

Somewhere along the way Laura had charmed Betty, and Carmilla had grown a little bit fonder of Lafontaine, though she would never admit it to their face.

When Carmilla had entered the Great Hall in the first week and found Betty not sitting alone as usual but with an entourage, she had sighed at the inevitable thing that would happen.

Sure enough, Lafontaine slid over so she could take a seat next to them, Perry had informed her they were sharing a Charms class this year, and Laura had smiled at her, which broadened as it always did when she received one back.

Carmilla blamed the exceptionally shitty summer she’d had for the fact she didn’t altogether mind that this had the potential to become a regular thing.

Her mother had been unbearable. New laws and regulations were being passed, making life easier for people who up to this point had had it very hard, and to Lolita Karnstein this was evidently unacceptable. Her frustration had been taken out on Carmilla, and not even Mattie sheltering her for the final month could alleviate the truly shittiness of her summer.

Mattie had always taken the time to undo all of mother’s teachings and remind Carmilla of her own. She had told her that bloodline and family didn’t make different than anyone else, to never call someone a mudblood or any other slur, no matter how angry she got.

“Of course you’re better than other people,” Mattie had often affectionately told her with a grin while Carmilla tried to swat her away from ruffling her hair. “But that’s mostly because of my doing, not because of blood.”

She’d thought the same teachings had been passed onto Will, that he understood that mother was wrong in the things she spewed, so had been surprised when she had been called into see the headmaster and was informed that Will had called a first year girl a mudblood and then laughed when she cried.

“I know this isn’t your doing,” Headmaster Kole had ensured her, “And while it is unorthodox for me to bring a relative in the school to tell this, I can’t ignore your family history.”

A lot of families had ancestors who chose the wrong side, most of them admittedly in Slytherin, but the Karnsteins were one of the ones most memorable, and whose matriarch was currently trying to reinstate the rules the wrong side had preached.

“Did he hurt her?” Carmilla had asked, dreading the answer. “Physically, I mean.”

She’d breathed out a sigh of relief when she was told no, causing a confused and slightly concerned look from Kole.

“Let me talk to him,” she’d argued when Kole had said that something like that was usually a call for expulsion. “He’s not like that. He’s wasn’t like that.”

Kole had agreed, but told her that if he got any sort of hints Will was using those kind of words again he would have no choice.

She found Will laughing with the boys he was friends with, wordless grabbed his arm and drags him away.

“Hey!” he complained as Carmilla threw him into an empty classroom and slammed the door. “What the hell!”

“What do you think you’re playing at?”

Carmilla wanted to keep her voice level, didn’t want to shout like mother did, but she was so sure her little brother wouldn’t become like the rest of their family and wasn’t liking the idea that he would.

“What do you mean?” he asked, calmly and with his arms crossed.

“What do I mean? What the fuck do you think I mean, Will?”

Will rolled his eyes. “This is about that Gryffindor, right?”

“You mean the girl you made cry? Yeah, it’s about her.”

“She took my seat in the library and wouldn’t move.”

“I don’t care if she’s the reason you can never take a seat again. You don’t call people that.”

Will just scowled. “Can I go or are you going to drag me somewhere else?”

“Apologise to her.”

“No.”

“Will, do you want people thinking you’re like the rest of them?”

“I don’t care what people think. You and Mattie told me not to care what people think.”

“We meant about being in Slytherin, or who you fall in love with, or if you like to wear nail varnish. We didn’t mean ignore it when people tell you you can’t act that way.”

Will shrugged. He looked sullen and annoyed, and Carmilla was starting to get scared that mother got to him before she and Mattie did.

“Will.” She placed her hands on his shoulders. “You can’t call people stuff like that. You’ll just become like mother.”

“Would that be so bad?”

It would be the worst thing to ever happen, in Carmilla’s opinion, but she didn’t have time to voice it as Will pushed her hands from his shoulders and walked out.

Carmilla sent a letter to Mattie that night asking her what to do, if they could stop it, if they could save him. She was reading her reply in the library the day after, a long letter basically saying they had no other choice but to try, when Laura sunk into a seat opposite her.

She jumped, Laura looked at her levelly, then smiled as she took out her books.

“Are you okay?” she asked. A heavy potions book was slammed between them, reminding Carmilla of the homework she should probably do. While students weren’t that different towards her, the professors were a generation closer to it than they were, and figured they might be a little harsher on her for a while.

Carmilla shrugged. “I know you heard what happened.”

“That’s why I’m asking.”

Carmilla sighed, folding the letter up and throwing it into her bag. “I talked to him, but I don’t think it did any good.” Laura looked at her wordlessly, carefully. “He’s not like that,” she insisted, wanting her to understand. “You know about my family, right?”

Laura nodded. “But I learnt a while ago that what I read isn’t always what happened.”

“It probably is in this case.”

“Oh.”

“But we weren’t meant to be like that. Mattie taught me that early. And we taught Will, but then we went away. Then we left him with her.

“You’re mother.” Carmilla nodded. Laura reached over to take her hand, leaning in closer. “Carm, you’re shaking.”

“Mother believes in pureblood supremacy, in magic supremacy, just like everyone else did. She does it with money and words instead of with violence and fear, but the end result is the same. But we didn’t, me and Will and Mattie. It was meant to end with us. A whole line of fear mongers and murderers was meant to stop with us.”

“It still can.”

“Not if Will thinks how he doesn’t.”

“He’s young.”

“And that excuses it?”

“Of course not. But people get older and they change and you can’t hold someone responsible for what they said at twelve.”

“I don’t know how to fix this.”

He’d been with her too long, and Carmilla didn’t see it happening. Laura was still holding her hand, had now turned it around and was tracing lines on her palm. It was calming, eased the rush in her ears, but didn’t stop the room was spinning slightly and the thought that she’d lost Will to her mother.

Laura was suddenly next to her pulling her out her seat. “Hey.” She was close and pretty and Carmilla had to take a moment to focus on her eyes. “Come somewhere with me?”

“Where?”

“I don’t know. Outside?”

Outside would have air, and air sounded like something Carmilla really needed, so she nodded and let Laura lead her from the library.

“Your books,” she said, looking behind them.

Laura tugged her hand so she faced her. “I’ll come back and get them.”

It was winter, and though only early evening was dark. Laura led them to the lake, Carmilla pulling in the air she didn’t realise she was missing whilst Laura murmured in her ear.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “Just breathe.”

Carmilla did, and when it became apparent she wasn’t going to collapse, gently pushed herself away from Laura, a little embarrassed and a little unsteady.

“Sorry.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Carmilla.”

“I’m fine. Go get your books before someone steals them.”

Laura didn’t move. Neither of them did for a while, until Betty appeared, looking a little confused, and told them it was dinnertime and cold and they really shouldn’t be having staring contests by the lake.

“I’ll make him apologise,” Carmilla promised Laura later, sat next to her at the table, close enough she could whisper it. “It wasn’t right, what he said.”

“I know. And I know you know that.” Laura had smiled, and again it grew when Carmilla smiled back.

He didn’t apologise, going so far as to call Carmilla a blood traitor a few weeks later. He did it again, to a different, older student, and was subsequently expelled.

Carmilla cried. She was found by Lafontaine, and cried a bit more, told them things she probably shouldn’t, watched as their fists flexed and their jaw tightened and they promised, passionately promised, that it would be okay.

//

They fell out in their fifth year.

Laura had found out casually through a letter that Perry, Lafontaine, and Carmilla had spent a month over the summer together.

She wasn’t jealous so much, she understood that Lafontaine had a large house and Perry lived next door, and she guessed that since Carmilla lived in the wizarding world it was easy for her to go, and since Laura didn’t it was harder, and Betty wasn’t invited because she was spending summer in America, but it still hurt a little bit.

It brought back the first year, when she had been teased and alone and was facing the prospect of spending the next seven years teased and alone.

But she wasn’t jealous, and if she was purposefully excluded she supposed Perry wouldn’t have told her about it in her letter. Thinking it may have been an accident, that’s why it had been such an offhand mention, just made her stomach hurt a little more, so she greeted them with a smile when she saw them on the platform. Her stomach hurt a lot less when they hugged her, tightly and with large smiles, and it felt very light when Carmilla smiled and seemed like she meant it.

“Hey, cupcake.” She didn’t hug, but she stood close and took a bag that Laura was carrying and threw it onto her trolly. “Good summer?”

“Yeah. Really good. You?”

Carmilla had shrugged, looked down a second before looking back up. “Was okay.”

Laura wanted to ask about Will, about how her family was, but didn’t feel that it was the time.

She had sat next to Laura in the carriage, not listening to what everyone else was saying, and smiled each time Laura caught her eye.

Carmilla’s smile hadn’t lasted very long. A month in the Daily Prophet arrived and told of the arrest of Lolita and Mattie. Eyes had turned to Carmilla, who had stood and fled instantly. Laura wanted to follow, but Lafontaine stood and placed a hand on her shoulder, telling her they had it.

Laura read the story. They were both accused of conspiring to make an attack on muggleborns, to find and kill them. There was no mention of Carmilla or Will.

Rumours began to spread throughout Hogwarts. Laura shared no classes with Carmilla, and she rarely came to meals. Lafontaine knew something, which in extension meant that Perry knew something, and Laura was feeling helpless. She knew what the fluttering in her stomach every time she saw Carmilla meant, she knew the pit of dread that came with her being anything less than okay wasn’t the reaction she should be having to a friend.

She had no way to talk to her, no way to ask her what was wrong, to make her feel better, and somehow got roped into a conversation on the extent of Matska Belmonde’s guilt with two fifth year Ravenclaws that knew vaguely from class.

“My brother says she was terrifying,” one said, talking low and leaning close, “Threatened to hex people if they didn’t do what she wanted. I’m not surprised she did this, I’m just surprised she got caught.”

The other nodded. “Guess evil runs in the family.”

When Laura looked up she saw Carmilla near them, staring at Laura with resignation, with acceptance, and that familiar pit of dread was back.

“Carmilla, wait.” She hurried after her when Carmilla turned and walked. “Hold on.” She flinched when Carmilla ripped her arm from Laura’s grasp. “Please, hold on.”

“What?” Carmilla turned around viciously. “Want more gossip to share with your friends.”

“They don’t know what they’re saying. You’re not evil, and I know that.”

“I don’t care about that. I heard what they said about Mattie.”

“Carmilla, you couldn’t have known.”

Carmilla stared at her, first in shock, then in humour, and started laughing. It was cruel, not the amused chuckle at her expense Laura was used to hearing. “You don’t get it. It wasn’t Mattie. She would never have planned something like this. It was Lolita. It was all Lolita.”

“The Ministry says-”

“I know what the Ministry says.”

“Lolita was let go.”

“Right, because the Ministry never let criminals walk free.”

“I don’t…”

“This was never Mattie. If she goes down it’s because Lolita wanted her to. Do you believe me?”

Laura didn’t answer, and that seemed all the confirmation she needed. She laughed again, that terrible laugh Laura was starting to hate, and turned to walk away.

Carmilla didn’t come to meals for a while after that. Laura wanted to see her, talk to her, maybe apologise, but she didn’t see her around the castle and Lafontaine would clamp up when asked where she was.

Laf appeared half way through dinner one evening a few weeks later and tapped Laura on the shoulder. It was hard to read their expression when they gestured for her to follow, and Laura did after receiving a shrug from Betty and a worried look from Perry.

“Carmilla is this close to snapping.” Lafontaine rounded on her almost instantly when they reached an empty hallway. “And I don’t know what you did but fix it.”

“I didn’t do-”

“Laura!” Lafontaine shouted in a way they had never shouted before, not at her, not at anyone. They held up their hands when Laura flinched. “Sorry. You did something.”

“Where does she go?”

“Somewhere people don’t stare and whisper at her.”

“I was just listening, I didn’t say anything.”

Lafontaine rubbed their eyes. They were looking near as tired as Carmilla did. “I think Carmilla can handle whispers and stares. She doesn’t care what most people think. She cares what we think. And she especially cares what you think.”

“Why?” asked Laura quietly.

They smiled, a little teasing but warm, not at her expense. “I don’t think it’s the right time to explore that. What did you listen to?”

“People were talking about Mattie. How she was probably guilty.”

“She isn’t.”

“You’re sure?”

“Carmilla is. Isn’t that enough?”

“Did she tell you that over the summer?”

So maybe she was a little jealous. Lafontaine frowned, then rolled their eyes. “Relax, Hollis, we didn’t leave you out of our cool summer plans.”

“I know,” sighed Laura. “And I don’t know how to fix it. Mattie’s locked up and her mother…”

“Her mother hurts her.”

Laura’s eyes snapped to Laf. “What?”

“Her mother hurts her. That’s why she came to stay with me. And trust me Laura, if you’d seen her you’d know we weren’t leaving you out of our cool summer plans.”

“Where is she, Laf?”

“Follow the portrait.”

They pointed to a knight in armour, who began to run. Laura struggled a bit to keep up, especially when they hit stairs, but he stopped outside a classroom and bowed.

Carmilla was sitting on a desk when she entered, feet on a stool and knees pulled up, and rolled her eyes when she looked up.

“Where’s Laf?” she asked, her voice cold.

“They told me I was an idiot for not believing what you say.”

“They said that?” Carmilla half smiled.

“They implied it.”

“What else did they tell you?”

Laura approached her slowly, giving her time to tell Laura to stop, to leave. When she did she sat down on the stool next to Carmilla’s feet.

“If you say Mattie is innocent, then I believe you.”

Laura remembered how she’d been with Will, almost begging Laura to understand what Carmilla didn’t feel that way about muggleborns, about anyone different from her. It was Mattie that taught her that.

“She is.”

Laura placed her hand on Carmilla’s knee. “Then they’ll figure that out.”

They did, in the end, and arrested Carmilla’s mother again instead. Mattie was set free, Carmilla receiving a letter telling her she was okay and that Azkaban wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be. She said that she would relocate so she was somewhere permanently, that at summer Carmilla and Will would stay with her and they would try and create some semblance of family that wasn’t corrupted.

Carmilla returned to meals, and the talk of the school turned to someone else’s problems. Laura still held the uneasy fear she had ruined something with Carmilla, but it was mostly dispelled when, at the end of the year, Carmilla pulled her in for a hug.

“Next year,” she said into Laura’s ear, hands clenched into Laura’s sweater, “will be better. I promise.”

She pulled back and squeezed Laura’s hands once before bidding goodbye to the others with far less enthusiasm, flipping Laf off when they spread their arms and asked where their hug was, and went to meet Mattie and a sullen Will at the corner of the station.

//

They kissed in their sixth year.

It was in Hogsmeade, it was snowing and they were under a tree, and if it had been anyone else who told Carmilla that’s how their first kiss went she would have scoffed and rolled her eyes. As it was she grinned, Laura’s hands were bunched in her scarf and Carmilla’s arms were lightly draped around her waist, and she laughed when Laura pressed her cold nose into Carmilla’s neck and made her shiver.

Summer had been the least shitty summer she’d had. Already being wealthy from the Karnstein legacy that they held, Mattie was able to purchase a nice house that was big enough for the three of them to not be forced to spend too much time together.

Will had been enrolled in a different school. He was still a brat, still used words like us and them, still wrote letters to their mother despite her denouncing and threatening her children when she was dragged to Azkaban, but occasionally he listened.

“He’s fourteen,” Mattie said, once afternoon after Carmilla and Will had a fight. “We’ve got time.”

A letter from Lafontaine informed her that their family and the Perry’s had rented a house by the beach for two weeks if she wanted to join. Laura was going, no Betty as she was at home, and it promised to be nice weather. She was wary of accepting, leaving Mattie alone to deal with Will, but her sister had just laughed and told her if she could handle four months in Azkaban she could handle two weeks with Will.

That was also a subject Carmilla felt like they should address soon, Mattie’s incarceration, but elected to leave it to a less volatile time.

It was sunny, and seeing Laura in a bikini had been worth the half hour lecture from Perry about the necessity of sun protection.

This time she and Laura had classes together, they found out when they returned to school. It was Charms, which Carmilla, having spent the last two years being in Perry’s class and forced to do the work, was very good at. She relished the chance to show off, and enjoyed the moments when Laura would get a spell right, look at her, and beam.

Carmilla was in the Great Hall trying to do homework when Laura sat down in front of her and asked her to go to Hogsmeade with her next week.

“I thought that had been arranged?” Carmilla said, shifting some books so Laura had space.

“Not with the others. I mean just you and me.”

“Like a date?”

Laura had taken a breath before saying, emphatically, “Yes. Exactly like a date.”

Carmilla grinned. “I’d love to.”

“Good.”

Laura took out her own homework and didn’t say anything else, but Carmilla saw a smile playing at her lips.

So they walked around Hogsmeade holding hands, and kissed under a tree in the snow, and Carmilla confessed she’d had a crush on Laura for about two years now, which Laura had taken a moment to tease her about, and their wonderful moment was ruined by a scream from the main streets.

They ran, still holding hands, and found the streets in chaos. Carmilla pulled Laura back just as a masked figure shot a spell at them. They both fired back, and the figure fell, and they sprinted in the same direction as other people, figuring this was away from the masked people firing spells.

They found Lafontaine and Perry running in the crowd and grabbed them.

“What’s happening?” Laura asked. People were running around them, and she kept tight and close to Carmilla.

“Bunch of masked wierdos just aparating in the streets,” Lafontaine said, “People started running so we just went with them.”

“Where’s Betty?” Carmilla said.

“She stayed at the Broomsticks with some Ravenclaw guy. We haven’t seen her. Carmilla, wait!”

Carmilla ignored Lafontaine, pushing her way through the crowd to get to the pub. She felt a hand grab hers and Laura was next to her. “Go back,” Carmilla told her.

Laura shook her head, told her no with a fierce expression, and pulled so they were in a relatively quiet alley.

“She might have got away,” Laura said.

“She might not have.”

Whatever Laura was about to say in return was stopped by having to suddenly block a spell sent their way from further down the alley. She sent her own, and Carmilla quickly followed, bypassing the masked figures defences.

Carmilla took Laura’s hand and pulled her down the alley, knowing a way to the Three Broomsticks from there. When she was grabbed around the waist she turned to fight, but found it was Betty pulling her to the side.

“Wrong way,” she said with a grin.

“Came back for you.”

“Sweet.”

“You’re bleeding.”

Blood was trickling from a cut in her forehead, but Betty waved away the concern. “Just fell. Let’s go.”

“Carmilla.” The voice made Carmilla freeze and her heart fall. She spun to where she had heard her mother speak, pushing Laura and Betty away. She heard “Crucio!”, felt the familiar burst of agony, and then all went dark.

She missed the dark when she woke up in the hospital wing and was bombarded with too much light. Her groan made Laura, who was sitting by her bed, leap to her feet. “Carmilla,” she said, sitting on the edge of her bed and placing a hand on her cheek. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Carmilla nodded. She knew that because Laura was there, and apparently said it out loud as Laura blushed and Betty, who she hadn’t realised was sitting on her other side, laughed.

“What happened?” Carmilla asked. Her head ached and everything seemed slow.

“You fell and knocked yourself out,” Betty said, “We had to carry your unconscious body to safely, it was all very heroic.”

“And after I came to your rescue, as well.”

Carmilla knew she hadn’t fallen, remembered her mother’s voice and the curse, but allowed it for the moment.

“My head hurts,” she informed them. Betty nodded and told her it was probably the concussion, while Laura leant forward and traced her fingers over Carmilla’s forehead, making Carmilla smile and Betty laugh again, light and kind.

“You’re in good hands, so I’ll leave you to it.” She stood up, gripped Carmilla’s hand tightly for a moment, patted Laura on the shoulder, before informing them both they were disgusting and that is why she never wanted to be involved in romance.

Carmilla told Laura she was going to sleep, the pressure behind her eyes not giving her a choice, and when she woke it was blessedly a little darker.

“Hey.” Laura spoke gently, winding her hand with Carmilla when she moved.

“What time is it?”

“End of visiting hours.” This was the nurse, looking meaningfully at Laura, who told Carmilla confidently that she would sneak back in soon. The nurse rolled her eyes, telling Laura she could stay as long as she didn’t disturb any patients, and Laura beamed and agreed she wouldn’t.

“Laura,” Carmilla said, once they had been left alone, “It was my mom.”

“I know,” Laura sighed. “The Ministry knows. She broke out.”

“How?”

Laura shrugged. “Security isn’t what it used to be, apparently. Hey.” She leant forward when Carmilla closed her eyes, running her fingers along her cheek. “It’ll be okay. The attack, the Ministry stopped it quickly, captured some of the people. Not your mom, but people who broke pretty quick. They think they’re going to be able to round a lot of the others up.”

Carmilla couldn’t help but smile a little. “How do you know so much?”

“Kole thought you’d have questions when you woke. Said you deserve to know them.”

“Mattie and Will?”

“Will’s school is going to keep an eye out. Mattie was offered protection, because your mother very publically threatened to kill her when she was arrested, but she refused it.”

Carmilla laughed, regretting it when it hurt. “I bet she did.”

“But you’re safe.”

“I know.”

“Do you want to sleep a bit more?”

“Not really. But you look like you could need it.”

“Romantic.”

“I’m sure getting into bed with the patient doesn’t count as disturbing them.”

It did, and the nurse tutted the next morning, finding Laura curled up next to Carmilla. But she let her sleep, quietly telling Carmilla that she needs a final check, sooner rather than later if she didn’t mind, and then she could leave.

When she did she found banners in her dormitory in the dungeons, food on her bed thanks Perry’s sway with the house elves and Lafontaine sugar habit. They both grinned when she entered, Laura pressed into her side, and Betty waved a bottle of firewhiskey, claiming that if this didn’t help her headache nothing will.

Carmilla rolled her eyes to cover the affection swelling in her.

Her mother was free and causing problems again, but this time Carmilla didn’t let herself retreat. She went to meals, put up with looks that were part distrust and part pity. Her friends were nicer to her, a little too close and a little too kind, and she didn’t like it, a sentiment she shared with Laf one night. She arrived at breakfast the next morning to Betty trying to steal her fried potatoes and Perry refusing to do her homework for her, and Laf winked when she looked at them.

Laura was steady, a firm constant that reminded Carmilla she was okay. She stayed as close to Carmilla as she could, wound their hands together often, and though Carmilla didn’t mind in the slightest she was concerned that Laura was keeping something to herself.

“I didn’t know what happened,” Laura confessed one night when Carmilla asked, huddled together in the courtyard. “You screamed and you fell and then you wouldn’t wake up. I don’t mean to be clingy.”

“It’s not that,” Carmilla assured her.

“I just like knowing you’re okay.”

She kissed her to get her to understand that she was.

Kissing was happening a lot, and, though Carmilla enjoyed it immensely, it highlighted the problem with shared rooms and a school filled with people who can unlock doors with a spell. A magic school turned out to be helpful, however, when they were kissing in an empty hallway and a door appeared next to them.

Laura opened it and started giggling.

“It’s a bedroom, isn’t it,” Carmilla said. Laura took her hand and nodded.

They got to dinner late, and Carmilla ignored the grins in favour of replenishing her energy.

//

They fell in love in their seventh year.

It became clear when, over a summer without Carmilla near her, Laura ached. Seeing her at the platform wasn’t enough, nor was throwing herself into her arms, so she kissed her hard in an attempt to get Carmilla to understand.

A cough next to them made Laura extricate herself from Carmilla, matching her wide smile before glancing over at Mattie, who sighed and looked at Carmilla warily.

“You have something to attached to you, darling.”

Laura blushed and went to step away but Carmilla took her hand.  “Be nice,” she told Mattie affectionately. “This is Laura.”

“I guessed as much.” Laura held out a hand, which Mattie glanced at before looking back at Carmilla. “I must go, but you know the drill. Be good, be safe. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

She ruffled Carmilla’s hair, spared Laura a slight head movement what she interpreted as a stiff nod and left.

“Hi,” Carmilla said, grinning at Laura.

“Hi.” Laura was a little worried about Mattie’s apparent disapproval. “Sorry. I just missed you.”

“I missed you to.”

“That could have gone better. Should I not have kissed you?”

Carmilla laughed and pulled Laura closer. “That went as well as I could have ever hoped. No snide remarks, no disproving speech.”

“She didn’t speak to me.”

“And that’s as close to a welcome as you’ll get from Mattie. Don’t worry,” Carmilla nudged her, “you’ll get used to it.”

Laura was delighted by the implication she would have time to get used to it. Her delight was tampered slightly by another cough, and Laura remembered the father she had come here with.

“Dad!” She grinned, hoping it would remove the fact she had just passionate kissed a girl on a train station platform. “This is Carmilla.”

Sherman Hollis crossed his arms, looking at Carmilla in what seemed an intimidating way but Laura knew was just for show.

“Hi.” Carmilla removed her hand from Laura’s to offer for a shake. “Sir?”

It sounded like a question, and Laura turned to bury her smile in Carmilla’s neck when her dad replied. “Good guess, well done.”

“Dad,” Laura said, a small, affectionate warning in her voice.

Her dad broke and smiled. He would have made a speech, she knew, but students were piling onto the train and she could see Laf waving at them from a window, and he told her to go.

“Christmas,” he promised, hugging her and kissing her forehead. “She’ll get a speech on Christmas.”

Laura waited until nearer the time to ask about Christmas. Their last year was taken up by studying and pressure and the constant question of jobs. Laura wanted to teach, she’d known that for some time, but Carmilla’s career prospects were noticeably less decided.

So she waited until December to ask if Carmilla wanted to come to hers for Christmas, causing Carmilla to smile and remind Laura of the time she asked third year.

“Barely said an entire sentence to you and you were already hanging up a stocking for me.”

“You surprised me.”

“You mean it this time? And you’re dad is okay with it?”

Laura nodded, assuring Carmilla that her father did not mind, avoiding the mention of the speech he had no doubt prepared.

“And the rest of them won’t either.”

“Rest of them?”

The rest of them was Laura’s entire extended family. When Carmilla accepted, causing Laura to squeal loudly in the library and then get shushed, she had warned Carmilla that approximately twelve aunt and uncles and around twenty cousins would arrive, and when they did they all happily greeting Laura and was fascinated by the girl she brought home.

They knew nothing of magic, and as far as they were aware Carmilla was a girl from the strange boarding school she attended who just happened to not know how to play scrabble.

“People actually do this?” she’d asked, sitting across from Laura while her dad snored on the sofa.

“Yep.”

“For fun?”

“You’re just saying that because you’re losing.”

She didn’t know if her dad had given Carmilla a speech, but she woke up one day to find them trying to bake cookies and felt a swell in her heart that nearly left her speechless.

If Carmilla was overwhelmed she hid it well, being polite and mannered, and looking more and more amused each time someone divulged a story that Laura would rather keep hidden. Occasionally she’d go quiet, have to leave the room or find somewhere less crowded, and when someone asked about Carmilla’s own family she would smile convincingly and say they weren’t big on Christmas.

Carmilla’s mother hadn’t been found, but there had been no more attack and a lot of the perpetrators at Hogsmeade were caught. Mattie had relented over the summer, allowing protection for Carmilla and Will’s sake, but there had been no attempt.

“Are you okay?” Laura asked one night, curled up next to Carmilla, having sneaked into her bed even though they had been banished to different rooms by an adamant Sherman.

Carmilla’s automatic response was yes, but sighed when Laura raised her eyebrows.

“You have a really great family.”

“I do,” Laura agreed.

“It reminds me of my not so great family.”

She’d told Laura that Will was starting to seem ashamed of how he’d acted. He’d stopped writing letters to their mother even before she broke out, and had even apologised to his sisters late one night in a moment of weakness.

Laura kissed her, cupping her cheek and carding her fingers through her hair. “You have Mattie and Will,” she said, “And me. And Laf and Perry and Betty. Seems an okay family to me.”

Carmilla smiled. Laura pretended not to see the tears brimming in her eyes.

They returned to school to the news Carmilla mother had been caught and arrested. She found out herself when Kole summoned her to his office, telling Laura that night while they were huddled against the cold in the courtyard.

“They’re going to be keeping an extra close eye on her,” she said, wrapped in Laura’s arms and speaking quietly. “She won’t ever get out, apparently. No contact, no anything.”

To Laura that was good news. She didn’t voice that, didn’t see it as her right to celebrate Carmilla no longer having a mother, but kept Carmilla as close as she could and told her about Betty shattering a cauldron to make her to laugh.

The rest of the school found out at breakfast the next morning. Laura stayed outside in the courtyard with Carmilla, which apparently was known as a spot to find them as Laf and Perry and Betty appeared.

Lafontaine threw the Daily Prophet down and slumped onto the ground. “She threatened you again,” they informed Carmilla conversationally. “It’s like, we get the hint, you want your children dead.”

Carmilla chuckled. “Last time she said annihilated.” She rested her chin on top of Laura’s head, picking up the newspaper. She dropped it distastefully as her mother snarled at her from the front page. Laura leant back further into her and linked their fingers.

It was two months before they were due to take final exams, officially ending their time in Hogwarts, when Laura woke to Carmilla shaking her.

“Cupcake,” she whispered, close to her ear. “Get up.”

Laura told her she would not, trying to pull her back into the bed despite being very sure she had fallen asleep without Carmilla in it.

A sigh indicated Perry was awake. “Can you two go do whatever you’re about to do in that special room.”

Carmilla chuckled. “It’s not that. Laura, come with me somewhere.”

“Where?”

“Get up and find out.”

Laura relented, mostly because it seemed like Carmilla wasn’t going to stop shaking her. After asking the time and then balking for a second at being informed it was three in the morning, Carmilla helped Laura pull on her coat and the green scarf she had stolen and led her by the hand through the castle.

“Where are we going?” Laura was starting to feel more awake, but told Carmilla wherever it was better be worth it.

They ended up at the astronomy tower. “Do you remember last year when I told you I liked stars, and you told me to _stop trying so hard, Carm_.”

Laura laughed at the impression of her. “Yes.”

“And then I told you it was because Mattie used to take me to the roof, when things were bad with mother, and I’d feel safe with her and the stars.”

“Yes.”

“And you felt so guilty about making fun of me that you tried very hard to make it up for.”

Laura blushed at that particular part of the memory. “Yes.”

“I’ve never particularly been unhappy, but I was never really happy. Except these last few years, and a very large portion of that is to do with you.” They emerged on the roof, Laura’s gaze being torn from Carmilla by the bright stars, only to land back on her again. “And to answer your next question, yes I did drag you up here to show you stars.”

“They’re nice.”

“I love you.”

Laura grinned. She had wanted to be the first to say it, but settled for saying it back. “I love you too.”


End file.
